Reason Rally Undercover

I’m back from the Reason Rally.
I can’t resist an opportunity to engage in apologetics, so on the evening before the Rally I attended the Reason Rally Outreach, a strategy meeting of roughly 100 Christians who planned to engage with the atheists. I only have one Jesus-y shirt, earned at the completion of the Alpha course, so I wore that one to blend in.
Andrew Rappaport (Striving for Eternity) seemed to be the organizer of the event. Apologist Matt Slick (CARM) presented a couple of arguments (including TAG) that probably weren’t useful to anyone who hadn’t heard them before.
Ray Comfort was the primary speaker, and he was interviewed on stage for a Christian podcast. I got a signed copy of his new book, Fat Chance: Why pigs will fly before America has an atheist president, and I missed out on getting a selfie with the Wolfman himself (see a recent photo of Ray if that reference is confusing).
I may critique the book if there’s anything interesting in it.
Ray Comfort’s upcoming “The Atheist Delusion” movie
We saw a 10-minute excerpt of Ray’s devastating new conversion tool, which will be released July 29. It was done in his usual interview style. We are introduced to maybe ten atheists, and Ray asks them if they think that a book could’ve just come together by random forces, without intelligence. They agree that it couldn’t. Then he drops the bombshell: with human DNA having more information than a shelf of books, how could that have come about without intelligence? In other words, it’s an argument from incredulity. The crowd loved it.
That’s the argument, and now you don’t have to see the movie. You’re welcome.
If the crowd thought that that was a good response to evolution, you can see how well prepared they were to engage people who have actually thought about the relevant issues.
Not having seen the entire movie, I don’t know if Ray responded to the concerns that a thoughtful person would have. Or whether he defined “information.” Is he measuring Shannon information? Kolmogorov information? Knowing Ray’s uncompromising and relentless journalistic nature, I’m sure he will explore the issue thoroughly. Or not.
Ray noted that in atheist critiques of his previous movies, atheists hadn’t bothered removing the gospel because they don’t realize its power. He imagines that the gospel is magic, and this carried over into the gospel pitch they encouraged the attendees to use: you’re created sinful and broken, and you need to accept the sacrifice of Jesus to get salvation.
You can imagine the response of the typical atheist. First, they’ve already heard this. Second, no one cares about the theology until you show me that this god exists. He looks as made up as all the rest.
Another argument: atheists don’t exist. Ray knows because the Bible tells him so (Romans 1:18–21). He said, not joking, “You can’t tell me the organizers of this event aren’t praying for no rain.”
With that kind of preparation, these Christian soldiers went out to battle armed with blanks. It reminded me of the 13th-century Children’s Crusade, the traditional account of which tells of 30,000 children walking to the Holy Land with the idea of peacefully converting the Muslims. Instead, many died on the trip, with the survivors sold into slavery.
At the Rally, Ray’s robots were walking around, wearing atheistmovie.com shirts or carrying atheistmovie.com signs. (They were permitted to be near the Rally by the police only if they kept moving and weren’t noisy or disruptive.) That URL was a good choice because it was deceptive. At first glance and given the context, it looks like a pro-atheism movie.
I heard that Ray was interviewing atheists during the Rally for the movie. Though I like engaging with Christians, I saw no upside. At best I would flummox him with thoughtful responses and get edited out.
“How imbecilic can one get with just one head?”
Let me summarize my interaction with one guy stationed in a group on the north of the Lincoln Memorial. His argument was basically, “But as an atheist, you have no meaning in your life.” I corrected him, saying that I see no absolute (or objective) meaning in my life, but of course I have plenty of the ordinary kind. Just look up the word in the dictionary. I have plenty of that, just like he might. And for the same reasons.
And he continued, “But as an atheist, you have no meaning in your life.”
A little frustrated this time, I made the point using more words. Over here (waving left hand) are absolute or objective things—meaning, morality, purpose, good and bad, and so on. And over here (waving right hand) are the regular kind, as these ideas are defined in the dictionary. If you’re going to talk about the atheist position, only talk about meaning, morality, and purpose over here (waving right hand).
And then we’re back at square one, no wiser than before. I’m not exaggerating—I think I went through some variation of this cycle this eight times. I don’t think he was doing it just to be annoying. He was indeed very annoying, but I think he just didn’t get it somehow. He didn’t see the distinction.
We get this error from well-known Christian apologists as well, from today’s big names back to C. S. Lewis.
It’s times like this when I despair of bridging the gap with Christians.
(h/t to Ignorant Amos for the “just one head” line)

I admit that reason is a small and feeble flame,
a flickering torch by stumblers carried in the starless night,
blown and flared by passion’s storm,
and yet, it is the only light.
Extinguish that, and nought remains.
— Robert Green Ingersoll

Image credit: Bob Seidensticker

An Attack on My Naysayer Argument

Strange Notions is a web site that aims to be “the central place of dialogue between Catholics and atheists.” Shortly after it was created, I was invited to submit one of my posts, which I understand was the first atheist contribution. I applaud that goal, and I was honored to have been be asked.
I offered my “10 Reasons to Just Say Nay to the Naysayer Hypothesis.” A day later, Father Dwight Longenecker, author of the Patheos blog “Standing on my Head,” wrote a reply. Here’s my response.
You’re welcome to read my post about the naysayer hypothesis for full details, but let me summarize it here.
The Christian argument
Many apologists say that Christianity surviving its early years is a testament to its truth. If the gospel story (written or oral) circulating in the years after the death of Jesus wasn’t true, there would’ve been people who would’ve objected. They would’ve said, “Hold on—I was there, and that’s not what happened.” These eyewitnesses would’ve been able to shut down a false story. An eyewitness account would’ve been much more credible than that of someone who simply passed on a story.
Rejection of the naysayer hypothesis
Let’s imagine that. Let’s imagine that Jesus was an ordinary rabbi and that there were eyewitnesses of him not being a miracle worker. The apologist claims that Christianity would’ve been squashed. And let’s be clear here, they can’t be content with a lukewarm, “Well, naysayers might have shut down Christianity.” That’s hardly a foundation on which to build the remarkable claim that God created everything and that Jesus was his emissary on earth who was raised from the dead.
I argue that this naysayer hypothesis is false. That is, we can easily imagine naysayers in the early years of Christianity and the religion surviving just fine. There’s much more in that post, but briefly: the handful of people who followed Jesus closely enough to know that he didn’t do any miracles would’ve been unable to spend their lives stamping out the brush fires of Christianity popping up throughout the eastern Mediterranean. They wouldn’t have even been a part of the Greek-speaking Christian community to know about the error. And why imagine that they would’ve cared enough to devote any meaningful time to eradicating Christianity?
Since rumors take on a life of their own today (for example, it took over two years for the fraction of Americans who believed that Saddam Hussein had something to do with the 9/11 attacks to drop below 50 percent), why imagine that the poorer communication of the ancient world would’ve stopped false rumors any better?
My response to a response
One more bit of housekeeping before we get to the response. Here are the facts that I think Dwight and I share.

  1. The gospels and epistles exist. We can agree on what each English translation says.
  2. These books were written in the first century, and Christianity is a first-century movement.

Dwight seems to have additional starting assumptions, but I can’t think of any that I’d share with him. In particular, I don’t take as fact that anything in these writings is true. And that’s only prudent—we accept that the epic of Gilgamesh exists, but we don’t immediately take its claims as history. You want to claim that Gilgamesh is actual history? Or the Iliad? Or the Bible? I’ll listen to your argument, but remember our starting point: that these books exist and their age, nothing more.
Dwight makes clear that my problem is

basic false assumptions, rooted in some very elementary ignorance of the facts of New Testament scholarship, historical scholarship, and what actually happened. Of course, if false, these assumptions make [Bob’s] conclusions irrelevant.

With that scolding ringing in our ears, let’s soldier on.

We don’t ask if there were any naysayers around to disprove the gospels from 70 AD onward. We ask whether there were any naysayers around when the gospel was hot and fresh when the apostles were preaching—first in Jerusalem and then around the Empire.

That’s fair. For simplicity, I wrote about just naysayers responding to the gospels, but yes, the fuller hypothesis imagines naysayers at the beginning of the ministry. (There would be less for these supposed naysayers to work with if they were responding not to the gospels but only to the oral version.) This touches on points 2 and 3 in my argument, but it does nothing to refute the overall argument.
Next, he spends a surprising amount of time arguing about the date of the gospels.

He repeats the tired old idea that they must date from after 70 AD. The only reason for this dating is the modernist scholar’s assumption that Jesus could not have prophesied the destruction of the Jerusalem temple, which happened in 70 AD. Why? Simply because prophecies of the future are impossible. Why? Because they say so.

I’ve heard this argument many times from conservative scholars. He sees Acts written before 65 AD, and Luke before that, and Mark before that. However, this isn’t the scholarly consensus. (I write more about the dating of the gospels here.)
But this is a red herring. I don’t much care when you date the gospels. My concerns still stand: you have decades of oral history before the gospels were written, then centuries of turmoil within the Christian community before our earliest full copies in the fourth century. That’s not much firm ground on which to build Christianity’s incredible claims.
Dwight then argues that there were naysayers, but that they were ineffective.

Let’s look at the facts: when the gospel was hot and fresh in Jerusalem in the days after the Resurrection there were plenty of people there who knew Jesus, knew what had happened, and were ready to dispute with the disciples.

Yes, that is what the story says. No, that doesn’t make it history.
Dwight talks about the bit in Matthew where the Jewish leaders say that disciples must have stolen the body, but why imagine that that story circulated days after the death of Jesus? All we know is that it appeared in a gospel decades after the death of Jesus. And I’m still scratching my head trying to understand Dwight’s point. Why imagine that the naysayers would be motivated to stamp out this false teaching? Why imagine that “That’s nonsense!” would stamp out a religion? Has it ever?
Let me propose an alternative explanation that explains the facts nicely without having to conjure up a supernatural claim. Jesus was a charismatic rabbi. Maybe supernatural stories were told about him during his lifetime, maybe not. Paul writes his epistles two decades after the death of Jesus, within which the gospel story is very minimal (I’ve written about the gospel of Paul here). Like a transplanted species that thrives, Christianity adapts and takes on elements of its new Greek environment, a culture full of supernatural stories. The Jesus stories grow with the retelling, and the gospels are snapshots at different places and times within the eastern Mediterranean.

Our point is not that there were no naysayers but that there were plenty and that they still couldn’t disprove what the apostles were saying.

(It’s not that Dorothy had no obstacles to returning to Kansas but that she had plenty and that she and her friends still overcame them.)
It’s a story. Both the Wizard of Oz and the gospel are stories. Yes, the gospel trots out naysayers and then says that the church withstood the attack. Show that the gospel is actually history, and then that argument will be compelling. Until then, not so much.
Conclusion
Let me try to summarize Dwight’s rebuttal:

  1. The action started right after the crucifixion, not at the writing of the gospel. You’re right, but that doesn’t affect the argument.
  2. You dated the gospels wrong. I doubt it, but let’s use your dates.
  3. The gospel story documents that naysayers existed who, despite their best efforts, could do nothing to defeat Christianity. So what? This means nothing until you show that the gospel story is history.

Dwight concludes by comparing me to someone explaining why there are no lunar landing deniers in NASA.

You may come up with ten astounding reasons why there are no lunar landing deniers at NASA, but it might just be because there was a lunar landing and the people at NASA—along with most other people—accept the simple facts of what really happened.

Yeah. We should accept the simple fact that Jesus was raised from the dead by the omnipotent creator of the universe (an Iron Age polytheistic deity) who demanded a human sacrifice to assuage his sense of injustice that humans are imperfect, like he made them to be.
Or not.

Sometimes I wonder whether the world is being run 
by smart people who are putting us on 
or by imbeciles who really mean it.
— Mark Twain

(This is an update of a post that originally appeared 5/23/13.)

Where’s God? He’s Harder to Find than Waldo.

The history of the abolition movement in the West isn’t complete without William Wilberforce. His drive was instrumental in abolishing in Britain the slave trade in 1807 and then slavery itself in 1833. There’s much more to the story than just Wilberforce, of course, but the story wouldn’t be complete without acknowledging his work.
What does a central figure look like?
Martin Luther King has a similar position within the U.S. civil rights movement. The story doesn’t begin and end with him, of course, but the story wouldn’t be complete without noting his substantial contribution.
Or Gutenberg in publishing. Or Einstein in physics. Or Shakespeare in English literature. Or Charlemagne in the history of Europe. Perhaps their fields would now look to us roughly the same without them; perhaps others would’ve stepped in. No matter—these great leaders were central figures in their fields. You can’t explain the facts of the history of their fields without them. A history book without these figures would have holes, like a jigsaw puzzle with pieces missing.
Who gave the “I have a dream” speech? How did the Slave Trade Act get through Parliament with so much opposition? Who developed the theory of relativity? Did the printing press just poof into existence?
There aren’t partisans here, with some historians of science acknowledging Einstein (or Darwin or Newton) and others saying that these figures never existed. Historians might rate their importance differently, but that they were important isn’t questioned.
How does God fit in?
Now that we know what a central figure looks like, consider God, the central figure in reality. He’s behind life, the universe, and everything. No historical figure so dominates their field as God dominates reality—or so we’re told.
Imagine God removed from reality, like the story of abolition without Wilberforce, or an Einstein-less history of physics. Beyond a superficial summary, we simply can’t explain abolition without Wilberforce or the history of physics without Einstein. So what of reality can no longer be explained without God?
Nothing!
Admittedly, we have riddles at the frontier of science. How did abiogenesis happen? What caused the Big Bang? What causes consciousness? But surely the Christian’s argument is more than, “Science doesn’t have all the answers, therefore God.” And, of course, Christianity doesn’t have any better answers. It can wrap a scientific puzzle with “God did it,” but that explains nothing. Science continues to deliver while Christianity continues to not deliver, but even if science delivered no more, that would say nothing about God’s existence.
Hot water
Have you heard about the recipe for making boiling water? First put a pot of water on a hot stove, then stir with a magic spoon (just once, clockwise), and then wait for the water to boil.
God is the magic spoon. He’s not necessary. He only complicates the explanation. Invoke Occam’s Razor and drop both the magic spoon and God.

The problem with quotes on the internet 
is that it is hard to verify their authenticity.
— Abraham Lincoln

(This is an update of a post that originally appeared 5/13/13.)
Photo credit: Wikipedia